


Fallen

by hardboiledbaby



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Canon Related, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-24
Updated: 2011-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardboiledbaby/pseuds/hardboiledbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time the import of those words became clear, shockingly apparent in hindsight, as Holmes's deductions often were.</p><p>Tag for <i>The Final Problem</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the LJ sherlock60 comm, expanded to a 221b ficlet. The 60-word version is posted [**here**](http://sherlock60.livejournal.com/32081.html).

" _My dear Watson,_ " Holmes's final message began.

I fell to my knees, the letter clutched tightly in my hand.

I do not know how long I remained there: frozen at the edge of the path, surrounded by the incessant roar of water, staring down into the very pit of Hell itself. Long enough that I was soaked through from the dank and clammy mist, long enough for my cries to hoarsen to ragged whispers, for darkness to claim me. How many minutes, how many hours? I cannot recall precisely, but it does not matter. Too long, yet not long enough.

Part of me is there still. The best part of me, perhaps.

_"My dear Watson."_

He frequently addressed me thus in the past, but for the first time the import of those words became clear, shockingly apparent in hindsight, as Holmes's deductions often were.

I was his. I belonged to him.

Dear God, had he known?

_Of course he knew. You were the one who could not see what was in your own heart. You damned fool._

I cursed my blindness, my stupidity. If only I had realised sooner... or not at all.

But it is too late for regrets. I know it now, and will carry the knowledge to my grave: I am his. I suspect I always will be.


End file.
